More exposition (and a whole bunch of double entendres) implying that Daddy Burns has been teaching Heather to catch as well as throw. I agree with the TWIM hive mind that if the Mudlark braintrust is considering her as TE Pete DeWindt’s replacement they should be finding out if she can block as well. As has also been postulated, maybe Gil will introduce the spread. Can Hakeem or The Secret Pelwecki execute the Mouse Davis run and shoot?
There’s a possible backstory to this father/daughter relationship (besides the usual sports parent living vicariously through his children angle we’re treated to in this strip) that merits exploring but I doubt we’ll get much of it. Instead I’m going to focus on the little things in today’s installment:
1) Our beloved Prairie Style Windows make an appearance in P1, but the oddly proportioned football has my attention. Doesn’t it look like it’s made of milk chocolate and wrapped in tinfoil?
b) Damn them’s some big apples in the Burns kitchen. What kind do you reckon they are?
iii) I’m getting a bit of an Uncle Charley vibe from Daddy Burns in P3. You?
Just as it looked like Moose Pelwecki was about to get a tryout as a ‘Big’ TE, we get this interesting scene which, as so often happens in Milford, raises more questions than it answers. Here are a few of mine:
Just how long was Kaz hanging out underneath the goalpost ready to sling that football?
Does he have a whole stack of balls there or just the one?
To what extent does the Milford HS coaching staff’s fixation on resolving the backup TE issue detract from their broader efforts to prepare for Madison?
Is it possible this is in fact the extent of preparations for Madison?
This plot is now stuck in the mud, the wheels are spinning, it’s messy and we’re not going anywhere. It’s nice to see Marjie and Gil doing their elaborate dance around the exchange of almost no information.
Panel 3 offers something pretty unique: Coack Kaz in a classroom! We know this is part of the high school coach’s life, but with the blistering pace of this strip and the intricate plotting, we just never get to see the coaches in the academic setting. Well, he’s in a classroom, but that’s about as much as me know. The classroom does have a college lecture hall feel, at least in terms of the seating that we see. I guess that’s not out of place in a modern high school. I wouldn’t know.
I don’t know what the nutty unknown kid is about to suggest to Kaz, but it has to do with The Secret Pelwecki, so hopefully it signals a plot movement. I gotta run and start studying for that pop quiz. I’ve got to look up Timi Tnuii Ivnii? Was that in the textbook or did I miss it in a lecture?
Kevin Pelwecki may not have a poster of the right guard on his wall, but does he have Groucho Marx and Chuck McCann in his medicine cabinet?
Here we were for the past couple of days remarking on how this strip portrays football positions in dialog balloons as abbreviations and wondering whether Milfordians pronounced them as abbreviations, and now here are kids sounding out the full name of each position. In so doing The Secret Pelwecki shows himself to be yet another in a very long line of Milford Idiots who want nothing more than to be the
defensive lineman right guard center of attention. I blame reality television.
Then – hey y’all, look! It’s a rare Coach Shaw spotting – and with more lines than just about ever. He’s setting us up for the fifth-string QB‘s transition into the third-string TE. Kaz, however, has had enough of his talk. By doing an end-around to snatch Coach Shaw’s MATT mug, Kaz asserts his dominance over Coach Shaw and maintains his status as beta male on the Milford sidelines.
I’m trying to get a read on the emotions going through Dory’s mind as he dialogues with The Secret Pelwecki. It seems like a mix of incredulity and contempt with a very strong overtone of panic as he realizes that he’s sitting next to the latest Milfordian boy to succumb to delusions of tank town grandeur.
I was so taken by following The Sec-Pel’s train of thought, that I almost didn’t notice that he was making this pitch to Gil and Kaz in panel two. Gil looks like he’s about to fall over backwards drunk while Kaz is reminiscing about his bouncer days as he flexes intimidatingly in an attempt to shoo Kevin away.
Meanwhile, in panel three… Uh, hey, let’s all just pretend panel three didn’t happen.
“Some of your teammates” = True Standish, the only one of your teammates I can be bothered to talk to.
I’m sure alert TWIMers have noticed during this arc that True has been periodically breaking the fourth wall with side eye, most recently yesterday. It’s almost as if he’s begging to be taken away from Milford so he can get on with his life. Now it’s Gil’s turn to break the fourth wall with a veiled cry for help: “Not my best work.” Prisoner to this five-month-long baseball/softball/death and DUI arc, with not even so much as single pool- or patioside adult beverage break with Mimi? Is Gil’s statement a reference to his usual lack of coaching coaching job, or the seeming inability of his creator to move things forward in this strip? Talk amongst yourselves.
From the Pantheon of Mysterious Objects Dept.: Have we seen Kaz’s “BOB” mug before? Or is that a “BOO” Radley memorial mug? Is he playing blackjack with Gil, or guzzling moo shu pork straight from the takeout box without pancakes?
“Hey, let’s heap physical and verbal abuse on the kid who had nothing to do with his father’s accident, then shun him, then repeat the entire cycle again and again, then act all pissy because the kid doesn’t want to be around us so we can repeat the cycle yet again.”
OMG RUBIN WILL YOU STOP THIS CRAP ALREADY
Oh well. At least it’s much better than “Cats.”
PS: Recycled art tag for True Standish’s hair on Art Standish’s head and (possibly) for Kaz’s big-ass 1998 Nokia 5110.
Today’s strip introduces Larry Arroyo in a bowling shirt… nope, I don’t care.